WTF's in a Fairytale!
by SutekiKage
Summary: What if Aladdin was more awesome then he was cracked up to be? What if Snow White was kicked out of his house because he kicked himself out? A series of cracked up Fairy tales that take a turn for the better…or worse. No, seriously.
1. The Author tackles Aladdin 1

**Title:** The Author tackles Aladdin and brutally extracts any sign of decency [1/2]**  
Author: **SutekiKage**  
Character(s) or Pairing(s):** AmericaxRussia; CanadaxFrancexEngland; Various others; Nordics are involved in this mess as well.**  
Rating:** NC-17 (For the possible language and sexual innuendoes…and situations)**  
Warnings: **Russia is Jasmine, yes, JASMINE.**  
Summary:** A series of cracked up Fairytales that take a turn for the better…or worse. No, seriously.  
**Notes: **In this chapter little children, we will see your beautiful Arabian dreams being crushed underfoot a harem of rather unsightly females.

**Cast**

**Aladdin** - America / Alfred

**Genie** - UK / Arthur

**Jafar** - France / Francis

**Sultan** - Matthew

**Princess Jasmine** - Russia (Yes, you're probably thinking WTF, who's the MOM like I am xD …I'd like to believe Ukraine TwT But the more logical one might just be Belarus) (P.S. I also like to believe that this was a shotgun wedding)

** Nordics** - Group of Thieves  
**Various other Cast** - You'll figure it out as you read.

**.,x.{Start}.x,.**

The room was filled with the scent of strong perfumes and incense; it was suffocating for anyone to be inside. Surprisingly, there was.

Soft pants filled the high ceilings, the wide corners; echoing, bounding off the lightly illuminated walls as they were washed away by a louder, more indecent cry for no more. Its reply was an evil chuckle that sent shivers down the vulnerable Sultan.

"My dear king," The taller male hissed, "I was hoping you'd see things my way now? The people need to be taxed more for my...uh, our happiness."

"Bu---but…" The protest was muffled as Francis moved just a smidgen from his previous position, enjoying the way his dear Sultan tried to move away –and into- the movement. "Ha…ahhh~~~ Ha—how can I…Convince you otherwise…?"

The wicked sorcerer paused in thought, ignoring the needy mewls escaping his captor's mouth, "Hmmm…" Thrust, "I'll leave that to you," Thrust.

The King came.

**.,x.{~}.x,.**

Alfred was awesome! Just look at how he was jumping over and around those vegetable stalls! Watch as he snatches at whatever he could get his hands on as he ran. Admire his dexterity snaking through the crowd…

Cringe inwardly as he falls face first into the yellow dirt and is snatched up by royal guards.

**.,x.{~}.x,.**

The hustle and bustle of the city was contrasted by the quietness of the palace so much that Alfred found himself feeling more and more spooked as he was dragged deeper and deeper into the building. Don't make fun of him! Like, what if there were ghosts and stuff…and stuff…So, of course he was relieved when they finally passed some attendants on their way by.

They, however, didn't provide him with any comfort.

"Whoa, like, lookit that bandit, Liet! Like, the Sultan's totally gonna pwn his ass!" …Alfred felt like his awesome adventure was coming to an end.

The guards, uncaring, or just really good at what they do dragged him to a wide and imposing doorway that just reeked of imposingness. FEEL THE WRATH OF THE ALL IMPOSING DOORWAY. FEEL IT.

Alfred peed in his pants a little.

"Go on," the blond guard instructed as they went to stand on either side of the doorway, to guard I suppose. That **_is_** their job.

The blonde eyed the funny shaped doorway...hole...thing. It _was_ rather imposing.

"FUCK, JUST GET TO IT ALREADY." The Albino guard just...**shoved** him. Andddd...there he goes; falling...falling...skidding...and he's fallen to a place of no return What?.

"Stand, thief!" Came a quiet voice from what Alfred could tell was the King's position, must be a higher up attendant or something. He looked up, spotting a somewhat young looking man sitting in the Kings seat, squirming uncomfortably every couple of seconds.

"State your crim-" OMG, THAT IDDY-BIDDY VOICE CAME FROM THE SULTAN! The _SULTAN_.

"WHOA, you're not imposing at all!"

"What?!" The man squeaked, looking flustered by the sudden outburst.

"--I mean, look at your doorway! It's so _IMPOSING_. Have you ever noticed that?!--"

"I do suppose it's rather menacing loo--"

"---Is that why it's so quiet around here?! So that people can _hear_ you?--"

"Well, I...I'd never--!"

"I mean, come on! And here I thought the King was some kinda tyrant from all those fearful whispers in town and all about the royal fami--" Then, he spotted him. That magnificent _beast_ standing in the shadows of the King's imposing chair.

He was in love.

He was in fucking la-la land.

And while his random outburst had dwindled to a soft, incoherent sputter, Princess Russia had asked, "Can I play with this one, Papa?"

Sultan Matthew laughs nervously as his daughter(?) leans over him and replies with a firm, "No," and realizes that he can't deal with his rebellious teenage daughter(?) anymore.

Princess Ivan pouts his most pouty pout and snakes back behind his father's moody self. God, his father was like, so moody, and _needy_, yuck. He sulks, maybe he'll try asking again later when Francis has him under him, his father always seems to comply readily when he's caught in the act.

Matthew shivers, feeling an ominous black and plotting aura residing behind him, and he sighs, all these problems would be nothing if he still had his genie.

"What Genie?"

"What?!"

"You just said you wouldn't have any more problems if you still had your Genie?"

"I did?"

"You did."

Matthew looks over to his attendants for conformation; the Italian seems to nod too eagerly. Goddamnit, he was talking out loud again!

"Yea, you are."

"What?"

"You're talking out loud again."

"I am?"

"You are--"

"ARGHHH, NEVERMIND. Just...Just send him off to the dungeons until he's learned his lesson or something." The two guards approached him, one a little eagerly then the other, "Oh boy! Another skeleton added to our collection!"

"Yours, maybe."

"Wah...! Wait!!" Alfred yells as the two men start dragging him away, "I can get your Genie back!"

"What?!"

"I can get your Genie back!"

"What? Oh, for goodness sake, Gilbert! Don't drag people away when I'm still talking to them!"

"Sorry Mattie."

"Don't call me that! Makes me feel unimportant…"

"Right, sorry."

"Sorry, what?" Matthew's voice grew an octave louder in commandingness.

"Sorry, Sultan..." The guard sulked, glancing down at his feet like a little child being punished for stealing cookies out of the cookie jar.

"I didn't hear you...!"

"Sorry, Sultan!"

"Thank you! God, I wish you'd remember to--"

Alfred cleared his throat, seriously, this was getting a bit too boring for him. All eyes turned on him, that was more like it!

"I can get your Genie back if you want," He said proudly, shoving a thumb into his puffed out chest, "'Cause I'm like the awesomest thief in the world!"

Matthew observed him, a thought (quite a few actually) raced through his features and his mouth slowly curled into a grin, Alfred was pretty sure the room dropped a few degrees in temperature.

"Since you seem so confident in your skills, Master thief," the Sultan's eyes glinted dangerously; Ivan definitely took after his father, "I would like you to gamble your life."

**.,x.{TBC}.x,.**

End Note – Yea, I'm gonna try and just make these as short as possible while getting the crack across 'cause they're just a detour from the angst and PWPs I'm currently working on. Although, since I just started this series, I might update a bit frequently until I run outta cracktastic ideas.

Next chapter! …AHAHAHAHAHA, worst possible ending for Mattie ever xD


	2. The Author tackles Aladdin 2

Disclaimer: HA, SILLY ME, I thought I could avoid it, BUT I CAN'TTTTT TTwTT Don't own, says so on my profile D;

**Cast**  
**Aladdin** - America / Alfred  
**Genie** - UK / Arthur  
**Jafar** - France / Francis  
**Sultan** - Canada / Matthew  
**Princess Jasmine** - Russia / Ivan  
**Nordics** - Group of Thieves  
**Various other Cast** - You'll figure it out as you read.

**.,x.{Last Chapter…}.x,.**

"_Matthew observed him, a thought (quite a few actually) raced through his features and his mouth slowly curled into a grin, Alfred was pretty sure the room dropped a few degrees in temperature._

_"Since you seem so confident in your skills, Master thief," the Sultan's eyes glinted dangerously; Ivan definitely took after his father, "I would like you to gamble your life."_

**  
****.,x.{Start}.x,.**

"…Do you have a 8?"

"No, go fish," The Sultan grinned as his challenger cursed profanities at the inanimate pieces of paper, "Do you…have a queen?" He grinned even wider as the American handed over the card grudgingly.

"Do youuuuu…have an Ace?" Matthew smiled, the other accepted the card triumphantly; Matt only had one card left. "Hey! Don't get all cocky and confident on me! Just 'cause you have one card left doesn't mean that I'll have—"

"Do you have a King?"

"FUCK. YOU'RE A FUCKING HACK, AREN'T YOU?!"

The blond laughed as the other jumped up and started tantruming on the floor, "Now..." he drawled, "Since you lost…I want you to get something back for me."

**.,x.{~}.x,.**

The mighty hero in the wild is a willful creature. So willful, in fact, that it will not back down from a challenge empty handed.

"Hey! How much for those tomatoes?"

The smiling Spaniard plopped down a box of cucumbers and jogged (merrily) over, "5 each."

"I'll take two for 6?"

The smile widened, "5 Each."

"2 for the price of one?"

"5 each."

"Fine! God! I thought I'd be treated with more respect working for the _king_ (hint hint, nudge nudge)!"

The man didn't even flinch, "5 Each."

A sigh, "Take you're damn money then." The Hero...is not completely empty handed! (?!)

**.,x.{~}.x,.**

Clatter, clatter, clatter, silence; the silhouette stopped behind a bush located in front of the hideout, his head turning in every which direction as he checked that no one else was around.

"So…here I am outside the Bandit's cave…" He whispered to no one in particular, breath already ragged from the journey here-those damn hamburgers!

"The hero does not sense any immediate danger, will approach closer and assess threat." Humming the Jaw's theme song to himself, he quickly ninja'd his way to the next bush and froze, staring intently into the pitch black cavern.

"…Wh't y' do'ng?"

"Shhh! I'm planning a raid."

"Wh' y' r'iding?"

"The Nordics who live in that cave," Point.

"Th' N'rds d'n l've th'r."

"Sure they do--! They don't…?!" Alfred whipped around to stare flabbergast at his companion, only to let out a blood curling scream (actually, it was pretty girly), "AHHHH!!! IT'S A MONSTER…!!"

The Giant man ignored him as he grabbed Alfred and spun him around, "Th' N'rds l've th'r."

"AHHhhhh--? What?"

There it was, the coziest little nook on this side of the Sahara and it belonged to the Nordics, and before he could even utter a meep, the man had him by the collar as he dragged him to the estate.

**.,x.{~}.x,.**

The place was nicely furnished to say the least, as if it had come out of an IKEA magazine. The blond glanced around as he shimmied his ass deeper into the cushions; they were _very_ comfy, and covered in little floral patterns!

Suddenly, his attention was turned to watch as a brash, young male came crashing –literally- though the living room entrance, and loveseat, and lamp, and coffee table…ouch; only to jump back a little as the man bolted back upright to point a dagger at his throat.

"AHA! You're here to fight me aren't you?!"

"Uhhh…no."

"I KNEW IT--!" The spiky-haired blond threw his arms up in triumph, only to have them fall back to his sides a second later, "What?!"

"Actua—"

"Oh! Oh! I know! You're here to steal our treasure!"

"Well…sort—"

"Oh god, ewwwww, so you're really _not_ here to fight me?"

"No, not really—"

"Ugh," sigh, "Su-san can take care of you then." The European stood, dusted himself off and headed back towards the living room entrance.

"Su-san? Who the fuck is _Su-san_?" Rustling, Alfred turned to see the man that had dragged him here step out of the shadow and approach him.

"WhaaAAHHHomfghe'sgonna_murder_meWAIT!"

The older man turned, "I just need a lamp!"

"A _Lamp_?" Both turned to look at the shattered lamp discarded, rather unlovingly, on the floor.

"No no no! Not _that_ one! The Sultan's lamp, he said he lost it to you guys in a bet but he wants it back."

"Ohhhhhh…that dingy thing? Why didn't you just say so?" The man disappeared past the door, silence pressed down on Alfred and 'Su-san', he glanced over carefully and gave the taller man a nervous twitch of a smile.

Su-san smiled (?) back.

Alfred swallowed a scream, than a yelp as something was chucked at him. Looking down into his hands, he saw the golden lamp.

"This is it?" He asked, confused.

"Yup, that's it."

"You're just gonna…_give_ it to me?"

"Well, why not? We're done with it."

"Rea…really?"

"Yea, the stupid bugger would only give us three wishes for the lot of us anyways…and I sorta wasted them all…" He cast a furtive glance at Su-san, who seemed to be glaring daggers at him at the moment.

"So…I can leave?"

"Why not?"

"We—well, I mean, with you guys being thieves and all, don't you have some sort of "We steal from you but you don't steal from us" code?"

"Well, yea, but Matthew's like really scary you know? You're probably the calm before the storm kinda deal."

"Right…" Alfred mutters, sounding not so convinced.

"No, seriously, take it before we make you." Su-san nodded, muttering words of agreement before picking Alfred and the lamp up and dumping them both outside.

**.,x.{~}.x,.**

Alfred was panting, hard; whatever was in the lamp was fucking _heavy_. Like, ridiculously heavy for its size. He lifted it up to shake it, whatever was inside was definitely NOT a liquid. He shook it some more, only to jump back as the lamp…cursed profanities?

What? The…fuck. He shook it again, a lot harder this time.

"YOU BLOODY GIT…!" Boomed a voice from the spout hole as some sort of green smoke began to make its way out, "FUCKING BRILLANT, YEA, SHAKE MY HOUSE INTO RUINS YOU WANKER." He…she…it(?) was _angry, _Alfred dropped the golden lamp and back away…right into a shrubbery that decided it could trip him.

He lay on his back in a daze.

There was a thump from where he had dropped the lamp, he looked up, where did _he_ come from?!

There, standing next to the lamp, dusting himself off was a man with fairly large eyebrows who was scowling at him with great distaste. "Now why'd you have to go an---"

"WHOA, WHERE'D _YOU_ COME FROM?!"

The man looked taken aback, "Wha…well I'm the Genie of the lamp! You do know that don't you? Seeing as how you saved me from those savages and all."

Alfred blinked, feeling a little flustered, "Well, I do suppose I did—""

"But that is beside the point," Alfred sputtered, He was the hero! He's _always_ the point! "I would like you to return me to my proper master now, or pay the consequence."

Alfred sighed, "Look mister, I don't know what the big deal is about the Sultan but he's like, nothing."

The Genie looked affronted, "Have you never heard of the stories?"

"…What stories?"

And that is how Alfred learned of Hockey, and Polar Bears (no one lived to tell the tale of why they were called _Polar_ Bears), and the dreaded Tim Horton's. Oh how dreadful that Tim Horton's was…and promptly decided to return the lamp to Matthew.

Of course, upon returning the lamp, Sultan Matthew said he'd give him a reward for his hard effort and gave (shoved?) Princess Russia over to Alfred as a gift. Alfred was ecstatic, that is, until the honeymoon; that's when he experienced the stories for himself.

**.,x.{~}.x,.**

"You called me, your majesty?" Francis bowed, not wanting to be rude to his bitch King.

The younger man glared (awe, he's so cute!) down at him before bringing out a golden lamp from behind him and rubbing it. Out of the spout emitted a green smoke that -for a second- Francis thought was poison and jumped away from the –sometimes- crazy man.

Instead, a somewhat older man with bushy eyebrows (and a nice ass, Francis noted) appeared when the green fog disappeared and bowed to the Sultan, "What is your command, my King?"

"Actually…what is _your_ wish, Francis?"

Francis cocked an eyebrow in confusion, "Excuse moi?"

"Well, you know, you said you'd change your mind –and hopefully leave me alone- if I could compensate? So I'll grant you one wish, but after you have to listen to _me_."

The older blond grinned, "Fine…" The sultan and the Genie shuddered, "I wish…you two were my sex slaves for our naturally sexually active lives, no; ifs, ands, or buts."

Matthew is horrified.

So is Genie.

**.,x.{End}.x,.**

End Note – Ok, as you can tell, I fail at writing Su-san's accent so…(is stoned) TwT

I hope you guys liked that! Next installment, I'll be ripping Snow White to shreds x3 (Hint, The whole G8 is involved, guess who they are! :D) Either that, or I'll butcher some other fairy tale, depends which decides to be more crack.

Or…I'll finally have the motivation to post that super angst France-centric.


End file.
